A Little Slice of Insanity
by DreamsofRubies
Summary: A young, innocent Mikey Way is diagnosed with a disease nobody he knows has. Every day becomes a battle he is (sometimes) too weak to fight. With the support of his family, and loving boyfriend Frank Iero, will he make it out alive?
1. Chapter 1 - And So It Begins

**The year is 1988.  
My name is Michael James Way. Most people call me Mikey. I am eight years old and in the second grade. I have an older brother Gerard, who is eleven. My best friend is Frankie, he is a year younger than me, but we are in the same grade. I also have another best friend, his name is Adrian. I'm the only one who can see him. He sits right next to me at lunch, but nobody knows he is there. My brother's friend and my friend Ray sits across from him, Frankie sits on my right side, and Gerard sits across from me. They think I'm "weird" when I talk about Adrian, but I know in my heart he's real. I have a doctor's appointment after school. They are going to talk to me about Adrian and put me in a machine that scans my brain. I hadn't eaten anything all day, Mom told me it was because they were going to put me to sleep.**

The hospital is big and boring. All the walls are painted bright white, with a blue stripe going all the way around. The tile floor is cold and hard, something you wouldn't want to fall on. We walked to what my mom called the "pediatric ward".

"Don't be scared," Gerard said.  
"I'm not!" I replied, shifting in the hospital bed.  
"Then why are you shaking?" my dad asked.  
"I'm...cold," I said. Gerard leaned over and gave me a hug.  
"Good luck," he whispered.  
"Thanks," I said.  
A nurse came in with a clipboard.  
"Hi Mikey!" she exclaimed.  
"Hi!" I responded.  
"I'm Ashley. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Are you okay with that, sweetie?"  
"Yeah." Ashley pulled up a chair to the end of the bed  
"How are you, Mikey? Have you been feeling well?"  
"Yes."  
"Do you currently take any medication?"  
"Just some lithium pills."  
"How many?"  
"Two, during breakfast."  
"What effect do they have on you?"  
"It stops Adrian from showing up. Same with Sandy and Rudolph. The doctor told me they would help. Since 'eight, almost nine, year olds should be growing out of the imaginary friend stage'."  
"You weren't supposed to hear that!" my mom spoke up.  
"I did," I said. It didn't bother me. Everyone else let their "friends" go, but mine were still there.  
"Who are your friends?" the nurse asked.  
"Frankie is my best friend. I tell him everything. Everyone can see him."  
"What about Adrian, Sandy, and Rudolph?"  
"Adrian is smart. He helps me remember my multiplication. Sandy is a dog, just like the one in the musical Annie. He lets me pet him at night. Rudolph is from Germany, he dresses funny. He talks funny, too. Nobody can see them except me."  
"They all sound like wonderful people!"  
"They sure are."  
"Do you have any bad habits?"  
I began to stutter. I didn't like to talk about it. "I, um, when I get anxious, and when the bad voices come, I smack my head. Hard. It hurts."  
"What kinds of bad voices?"  
"The voices that tell me that no one loves me. The voices that tell me I'm all alone. The voices that tell me I'll be stuck like this forever."  
"Those are all thoughts that a little boy like you shouldn't have to have. I'm sorry, dear".  
"It's okay, I guess".  
"Any other things I should know?"  
"No."  
"Okay. It was nice talking to you, sweetheart. I'll go get Cathy. She'll be putting you to sleep".

"It's time for your MRI, Mikey," Cathy said, checking off something.  
"Okay," I responded.  
"We need to put you to sleep, if you didn't know that already," Cathy said with a smile. She brought in the tray with the needle on it.  
"I'm not worried about it. My mom told me everything I need to know." Needles don't even bother me.  
"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Gerard asked.  
"If you want to," I said. Gerard smiled and I smiled back.  
"Are you ready, Mikey?"  
"Yeah".  
The nurse put the needle in my arm. It stung a little and made my eyes water.

My eyes began to feel heavy...  
Blackness...

I looked around the room. My dad was holding my mom, who was sobbing softly.  
"Are you okay?" I asked.  
"Oh Mikey," Mom hugged me.  
"Is something wrong?"  
"We don't know yet. I was just so nervous about my baby boy," she said, wiping her tears away.

Three weeks later, we went back to the neurologist. He said that they found something on the scan. Did they see Adrian?

"Mr. and Mrs. Way, by the looks of your son's scan, he appears to have schizophrenia."  
My mom put her head in her hands and began to cry.  
"It also appears to be increasing with age. Does that make sense to you?"  
"A little bit," my dad said, "When he was five, he had one imaginary friend. He could tell the difference between what was real and what wasn't. Now, Adrian and the others are real to him. There is no distinction."  
"I see," Dr. Goodman said, scribbling on his clipboard, "Do you see this red area here, Michael?"  
I nodded my head.  
"That is the area that is affected. We, meaning the medical community, are still not certain what causes schizophrenia. It is usually genetic. Does anyone in your family have schizophrenia?"  
"Nobody, Dr. Goodman." my mom replied, wiping her tears with a tissue.

After a few more questions, Dr. Goodman left the room and my mom began to cry again.  
"It's going to be okay, Mikey," she said, holding me and stroking my hair, "It's all going to be okay."  
My mom was more emotional than I was.  
"It's just another special thing about me," I responded with a smile.  
Gerard wrapped his arms around me.  
"You're so strong. I want to be like you when I grow up," he said.  
That made me feel good inside. Especially since the voices told me that Gerard didn't love me. My mom wiped her tears away and put her head on my dad's shoulder.  
"I don't feel like cooking. Let's just go out tonight," she laughed. I was grateful to have such a caring family. I'm not quite sure what exactly "schizophrenia" is, but I know with my family's love, I can pull through anything.


	2. Chapter 2 - Cuts Like a Knife

_The bold-face words is the voice in Mikey's head._

The year is 1996.  
I am now a sophomore. I am sixteen years old and Adrian is long gone. He has been replaced with demonic voices. Voices that tell me to do terrible things...  
I grabbed my soda and headed to the lunch table. I saw Gerard enter the cafeteria as I sat down. It brought a sense of security I needed. I felt a hand wrap around my shoulder and tap me. It was Frank.  
"Hey babe," he said seductively.  
"Hey," I replied, lacing my fingers between his as he sat down.  
"I was thinking we should skip next period," Frank whispered. "We totally should. I need a break,"I said. Frank professed his love to me on the last day of freshman year and we have been dating ever since. "So where do you want to go?" I asked. "I don't know yet. I guess we'll figure it out when we get there," Frank responded, taking a drink of my soda.  
"Hey!" Ray exclaimed sitting down across from Frank. Frank took his hand out of mine and moved it to my thigh.  
"Hi!" Frank said. He squeezed my thigh.  
"How's your day been?" Ray asked.  
"Same ol' thing, dude," I said.  
"Yeah, I know it. Math is getting harder every day! My parents made me take trig," Ray said.  
"Hey bro!" Gerard said and sat next to me.  
"I've missed you", I replied.  
"You saw me this morning", Gerard laughed.  
"I know, but I missed you". I can't live without my brother. He is my rock.

Lunch was just about to end. We went to the side door of the school. Frank glanced around, "The coast is clear," he whispered. Frank cracked the door open and we scampered out the door. Frank pressed me up against the wall of the school and kissed me. He tasted so good, like cigarettes and Diet Coke. A tear dripped off my cheek. "What's wrong, babe?" Frank asked, stroking my cheek. "I just love you so fucking much," I replied, continuing the kiss. "You're beautiful, Mikey," Frank said. He slipped his hand in mine and we walked to my car

We arrived at the park.  
"I want to make love to you. You deserve every bit of it," Frank said, kissing my cheek. To Frank (and me), "making love" was essential. It was better than sex. It meant more... I jerked the seat back. Frank slipped his shirt off and I did the same. Frank's small frame slithered on top of me. "I love you," he whispered against my neck.  
"I love you," I whispered back. He rubbed his hands in slow circles on my chest. "You're so beautiful". He kissed my neck. "Every inch of your body is perfection." Frank slipped his tongue between my lips and kissed me lovingly. "I want to be your dream," Frank moaned. "You already are," I responded, "I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend. You are what I have been searching for." My hands entangled in Frank's hair as he showered me in kisses. "I'm so ready," Frank replied. I unbuttoned my pants to relieve some of the pressure. "Frank," I moaned as he kissed the area between my neck and collarbone. "You complete me," Frank said. This was making love... Frank loves telling me how much he means to me. It makes me feel so good. Frank unbuttoned his jeans and began to grind on me. "You've come around," I said with a small grin. "I can't help it anymore, Mikey. You're hard, I'm hard. I need this," Frank responded. "I need this more than you could ever know. The voices get to be too much sometimes and you are my escape", I groaned. "Aww, babe," Frank sighed. "I'm here for you. You know that". Another tear, damn it. "Don't cry", Frank whispered, "I want you to savor this moment forever", he nibbled at my jaw. He began to grind again, "Remember this moment. Remember how much I love you. My love will guide you." Frank's touch was all I needed, "Of course," I replied, giving him a gentle kiss on his swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Frank rubbed against me and cuddled my neck like a cat. He stroked a finger over my nipple, soon taking over with his tongue. His cock was out and he was ready, "I'll be so good to you", he moaned, "So gentle". He slipped on a condom. I wriggled out of my tight jeans. I slipped off my boxers and moved the back seat, where we had more room. "Now where were we?" Frank said, "Ah, yes". "It's one in the afternoon, in the middle of a fucking park", I groaned as Frank teased my aching cock. "I don't give a damn", Frank replied as he dipped his head to kiss my thighs. I twisted my hands in his hair. "Oh Mikey", Frank moaned, "You taste so good. So sweet". I'd swear Frank is older and more experienced. It's hard to believe this devious little bastard was only fifteen. I am sixteen, yeah, but I don't know anything about 's why I'm always on bottom, unless Frank begs. Frank lifted his head and lapped softly to get me going. "Don't stop", I whispered. He put one of my skinny legs behind his head, "Are you ready?" he asked. Our eyes met for a moment, "I've been ready", I moaned breathlessly. He pulled my other leg up. I felt so exposed, so raw, so wanting to take in every inch of my boyfriend. Frank pushed himself in gently. I gasped in pleasure, gripping onto Frank's back. My leg began to quiver as Frank moved quicker and harder. "Darling, you're shaking," Frank laughed to himself. "I'm-oh God, Frank- I tend to do that," I groaned. I couldn't control it. Sometimes, I feel so good, inside and out, my brain fails to function.

Now I've been sappy lately,  
thinking about the toxic things to come.  
And I believe this could be  
Something bad has begun.

Oh, I've been crying lately.  
Dreaming of the world, alone.

I blasted my homemade Cat Stevens mixtape. I made up my own lyrics as the songs played.

The first cut is the deepest, baby I know.  
The first cut is the deepest.  
'Cause when it comes to being lucky, I'm cursed.

I got out the razor from my dresser drawer. I felt like such a jerk, betraying my boyfriend like this. I had such a fantastic time with him that I feel guilty to dig a box cutter into my skin.** You have to do it, Mikey! Do it! If you don't, Frank will never love you! He hates guys who are scared!**The ice-cold razor lingered on the sensitive skin of my wrist.

Well if you want to bleed out, bleed out.  
And if you want scream, just scream.  
'Cause there's a million scars, you see.  
You know that there are.

**One!** A vertical slash marked my arm. Sticky, crimson blood poured from the wound.** I hate you, you hate you, we have so much in common, don't we?** Two! A slash branching off from the first.  
"I'm not the one doing this!" I cried out loud. I smacked the cassette player off of my bed.  
"Help! Oh God, please! Help!" **You're such a baby!** **Three!** My wrist was beginning to sting.  
"Gerard!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, my voice raspy and gurgling. **He won't save you! Gerard has never cared for you!** I sat there in bed, crying in agonizing pain and fear. Blood spilled onto my light blue blanket. My body shook violently. I tried to soak up some of the blood with the tissues by my bedside but it failed. I heard footsteps pounding towards my room. The door shot open, Gerard jumped over the cassette player and stood in front of me.  
"Oh Mikey, no!" he sobbed. Gerard took off his black t-shirt and wrapped it around my wrist. He applied some pressure as he held me in his naked arms.  
"We need to take you to the hospital, baby," Gerard said, zipping on one of my sweatshirts. He picked me up and carried me out the door, down the stairs, and to his car.  
"Call..." my voice was fading, "Frank."  
"I will. I promise," Gerard said, "Keep your wrist elevated".  
"I...I didn't...I wasn't..." I choked out. It was getting even harder to breathe, "I wasn't...the one who...did this."  
"I know, baby, I know," Gerard said and rubbed my shoulder  
"Don't...don't...don't tell Mom and Dad," I croaked.  
"I won't."  
Gerard's t-shirt was soaked with blood.  
"I'm...scared," I moaned, my breathing getting more and more shallow.  
"We're almost there. Please don't leave me, Mikey. You're too perfect," Gerard began to cry again.  
"I...I don't...want...want to...die," I said, removing the t-shirt to glance at my wrist.  
"Oh Michael!" Gerard screamed and cried, "Please don't say that!"  
"I...I love...love...you," my voice was almost at a whisper.  
"No! Mikey!"

I woke up in a bed with a bandage around my wrist. The last thing I remembered, Gerard was crying his eyes out. He was now sleeping in a couch next to the bed.  
"Mikey," I heard from the door. I began to cry, it was Frank. He began to walk towards the bed.  
"Frank, I'm so sorry," I sighed.  
"No, honey," Frank replied. He hugged me tightly and cried into my shoulder, "Don't be sorry".  
"But..." I began. Frank kissed me, long and full of the love I desperately needed..  
"I'm just so glad you are okay. Gerard called and I lost it. I yelled, as loud as I could. That's why I'm late coming here. I cried for an hour straight. I thought I lost you. I love you so much, babe."  
"I love you too," I sighed. Frank kissed me again.  
"I see they fixed you up," he said, glancing down at my wrist.  
"Oh yeah. It looks like they did," I said, "Do your parents know what happened?"  
"They're out of town. Oh darling..." Frank let out a sigh. He crawled into the hospital bed next to me and began to cry again.  
"Frankie, sweetie, please don't cry," I said, wrapping my right arm around him.  
"I thought I lost you," he repeated. "I know it's not your fault."  
"I'm on suicide watch right now", I replied. Frank buried his head in my chest. "I didn't want to die! It's not even-"  
"Hey Michael!" the nurse, Katie, said.  
"Hi", I responded, taking a drink of my water.  
"Who is this?" Katie asked.  
"This is my lovely boyfriend, Frank," I said. Frank popped his head up. Gerard began to stretch and yawn.  
"He is lovely", Katie went along, "I was just coming to check up on you and see how you're doing".  
"I was only asleep for a half an hour? Wow", Gerard said.  
"I'm doing fine. Katie, I swear this wasn't my fault. I don't know why the doctors don't believe me! Where's Dr. Goodman?"  
I got a hush from Katie, "You need to get some rest", she said. Frank began to look annoyed. His brown eyes have gone red from sobbing so much. He put his head back down. "We're going to release you tomorrow, Michael", Katie said, "We'll give you a pamphlet on how to properly take care of your stitches. Mr. Way, are you still paying the bill?"  
"I am. Send it to the address I gave you," Gerard replied sitting up.  
"Okay, thank you."  
Frank fell asleep on my torso. I never wanted to cause him, or myself, this much misery and pain.


	3. Chapter 3 - What I'm Thankful For

The year is 1996  
Today is Thanksgiving. Mom kept pleading me to wear my "adorable" polo shirt, but I opted for a long sleeve sweater. It covered up the stitches and dressing on my wrist. It has been three days since the accident. Everyone was at the table, talking and laughing. I sat there, my wrist in a dull, throbbing pain, waiting for Frank to show up. I took a sip of the red wine my dad poured me. The doorbell rang. I got up out of my chair slowly.  
"Why are you being so sluggish today, Mikey?" my dad asked.  
"I'm just tired. I had trouble sleeping," I replied. Truth be told, I didn't want to tear these stitches. "Come in!" I called from the top of the stairs, walking down them. Frank walked in the door and wrapped his arms around me.  
"Happy Thanksgiving, dear," I said and kissed his cold lips.  
"Same to you," Frank replied. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "How's your wrist feeling?"  
"Oh baby, it hurts," I said. I lead Frank upstairs to the table.  
"Everyone, this is Frank," I introduced him to my aunts, uncles, and cousins. "My boyfriend." My whole family knew that I liked both sexes. Besides, I grew up with Frank, so they're comfortable with him.

After dinner, Frank and I went to my room. We needed to change the dressing without anyone noticing. Frank unwrapped my wrist, carefully and slowly. It was almost intimate, in a twisted way that Gerard loves. He kissed my wrist.  
"Am I hurting you, baby?" Frank asked. I hissed as he skimmed his hand softly across the "carvings".  
"Yeah. A little. I'm sorry," I said, holding back the burning sensation in the corner of my eyes.  
"Stop apologizing. I'm the one who's sorry," Frank examined the gashes, "Um Mikey?"  
"Yeah?" I said.  
"Did you ever notice what this entity carved into you?" Frank asked.  
"No."  
"It's the letter 'F'. Does this voice know of my existence?"  
"Yes!" I sobbed.  
"Oh darling," Frank cooed, rubbing my back.  
"It tells me that you hate me and if I didn't carve this into my arm, you would leave me," my voice was already giving out. I have cried so much in the past few days.  
"Don't you dare believe that for a fucking second. Michael James Way, do you really think I would leave you? You are everything to me!" Frank was almost yelling.  
"I know you wouldn't. It's the voice, not me. It controls my every action," I said. "Ouch."  
"Here," Frank took my wrist in his hand, "It's kind of scary that the voice is intelligent."  
"I know. Now I'm scarred with an 'F' on my arm forever." Frank carefully rubbed the ointment onto the stitches.  
"I love you, Mikey," Frank said as he wrapped up my wrist with new gauze.  
"I love you too, Frank."  
"There. All fixed," Frank said and kissed me, "I'm sorry that this had to happen."  
"Me too," I sighed. We walked out to the living room and sat on the couch next to Gerard.

I reached for the coffee pot on the counter.  
"Mikey," my mom said, sounding concerned.  
"Um...Yes Mom?"  
"What's that on your arm?" she asked. My heart began to race.  
"It's just my undershirt," I said, a dumb attempt at an excuse.  
"Oh well, okay," Mom said. I'm a bad liar. I brought the coffee over to Gerard, like he wanted where Frank was sitting. I kissed his cheek as he crawled into my lap.

Frank asked my parents if he could spend the night. Being drunk off their rockers, they said yes. Despite the pain in my wrist, today was an awesome day. I curled up in bed next to Frank.  
"If there's anything I'm thankful for, it's you," Frank whispered and kissed me. He moved down to my neck, whispering sweet nothings. "You're my angel," Frank said. I giggled. He tilted my chin so I was looking into his eyes. "Did you fall from Heaven?" he asked. I smiled.  
"You're so cheesy, but I'm enjoying this. Go on"." Frank moved back to my ear, sucking and nibbling on my earlobe as he continued his little thoughts.  
"I need a map, because I get so lost in your fucking eyes." Everything Frank was saying made me squeal like a little school girl. He ran his pierced lips across my jawline. "People think I'm nuts for being so in love." Shivers ran down my spine as he breathed on my throat. "You are the reason my heart beats every day. You are my motivation for waking up in the morning." Frank moved to my hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo, "I love the smell of your hair. It's so soft and silky." Frank kissed my neck. I held onto the nape of his as my eyes rolled back in pleasure, causing the kiss to become deeper. I groaned. Frank pulled away and kissed my lips. "You're so beautiful, Mikey," he said. "So", he said between kisses, "So... So pretty." My lips were parted as Frank kissed my collarbone. My lips were warm, with the taste of cigarettes lingering on them. "I want to do this forever," Frank sighed.  
"I-I don't know what to say," I said, my voice almost lost from not talking for quite some time.  
"Nobody said you had to say anything," Frank replied with a small laugh. "It's okay to have a little TLC sometimes. You are worth it". I told Frank I loved him as he snuggled into the pillow next to me to get some sleep. I thought about what Frank told me. Maybe I am. Maybe I am worth it. I am. I am worth it.


End file.
